Hidden Desires
by InsomniacWriter
Summary: Harry had always wondered why he was treated like a psychopath about to explode...


**Welcome to Hidden Desires. This is my second story on fan fiction. I'm still currently working on the other, The Forbidden Life, and do not plan to stop. Hopefully I can keep up with both. **

**Summary: Harry always wondered why he was treated like a psychopath about to explode…**

**And that's all I give you for now. This is a story before he was introduced to the magical world and went off to Hogwarts.**

**Chapter 1: A simple daydream **

"Potter!"

Harry jumped and looked up from his desk with a guilty look. His math teacher, Mr. Jacobs, gave him a glare from the front of the classroom when he saw that Harry wasn't paying attention. Harry hated that look. It was a look that meant me was about to get into trouble and there was no getting out of it.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he said politely, trying to ignore the snickers that began to emerge from the other students in the classroom. He absently picked at the hem of his shirt, baggy and torn, as it had been a hand-me-down from his cousin. Not that he was complaining. He was, in fact, very grateful. He was always grateful.

His teacher continued to stare at him, doing nothing about the laughter, and Harry started to feel self conscious. His hands found a little tear in the shirt and he started tugging at it. Then the frown that had been on the teachers face disappeared to form a small sort of smile, as if it was attempt to get Harry to feel calm.

It did nothing, of course, and the rip grew. Harry didn't like the look in his teachers eyes. It reminded him of his uncle. He didn't really like his uncle.

"Harry," the teacher said pleasantly. Harry fought to keep eye contact to avoid looking back down at the desk. "Why don't you come up here and solve the equation I have written on the board."

The quiet snickers turned into loud giggles hidden very badly, but Harry grit his teeth and stood up from his desk. He made his way up to the front of the classroom, avoided the feet shoved out into the isle, and pushed his taped glassed firmly onto the bridge of his nose. He saw his cousin up ahead, and braced himself.

A foot was shoved out roughly, and Harry got a look at a nasty smirk on his cousins fat face. He stepped cleanly over it, and was just about to pat himself on the back for a job well done, he tripped on the edge of his pants, them being just as baggy as his shirt.

He lay there on his stomach for a moment, letting the laughter wash over him. Deep inside, he felt an ironic sort of humor that it was his fault he had fallen this time, but the humiliation he felt at the moment covered it up effectively.

He stood up, brushing himself off, finishing his trek to the front of the classroom, directly to his smirking teacher. He took the piece of chalk that was held out for him. He went to the chalkboard, and stood there for a moment. When he felt nothing hit the back of his head, like a spitball or something of the sort, he considered himself safe for the moment, and looked at the equation before him.

Almost immediately, he felt triumph as he recognized it. It wasn't something they learned that year, which made him feel rather annoyed at his teacher, but luckily he knew what to do.

Since he had started school, things had been pretty easy for him. Tests were a joke, and homework took about five minutes of his time. Or course, his intelligence was hidden due to the actions his cousin had taken to make sure he was better than 'The Freak'. If he so much as got a B, it was back into the cupboard for him.

He refused to let his relatives get away with that. A good education meant me would have a lot more opportunities when he got older. Maybe even an opportunity to get out of the house sooner rather than later. Grades now wouldn't matter, so he was safe with hiding his knowledge for the moment. He would figure out what to do when he got to things more advanced. So for the time being, he studied what he wanted to study. It took almost no time at all to figure out that math and science were his strengths.

This equation, however, looked like something that came from a high school textbook, and not something a third grader would know. Harry knew for a fact that it did, because he had already reached that level of math, and recognized it from one of the textbooks he had stolen from the public library.

He lifted his piece of chalk and started writing. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on the board. It was one of those trigonometry identity problems. The took a little bit of time, but Harry felt he knew what he was doing. He knew all of the identities by heart.

Soon enough, the little chicken scratched numbers on the board grew and grew, almost taking up the entire board. Harry would show them. He was tired of always being so stupid. He was tired of toning down his intelligence in classes.

He was completely ignorant to the awed faces of the students, and the surprised expression on his teachers face. They hadn't expected this out of the shy little Freak. They hadn't expected the stupid Freak to actually know something.

Harry felt a strong trace of bitterness, and swallowed bile that came to his throat as he thought of his classmates, his teachers, his cousin, his relatives. Always treating him like an idiot and a abnormal creature that didn't deserve the everyday occurrences like getting an allowance or getting a hug. This was the end. This was they day he would show them.

He forced his concentration on the board, trying to hold back the anger and loathing he felt when he thought of everybody in his life. He couldn't think such things now. He had to concentrate.

He was so concentrated on the board, that he didn't notice when another teacher walked into the room. It was his English teacher. The teacher of another class he hid his intelligence in. Another class where he was just a Freak. She opened her mouth to say something to his math teacher, but then shut it when she saw that everybody was staring transfixed at the front of the classroom, where Harry was solving the equation. She followed their gazes and saw him.

When she saw all the writing on the board, her gaze became calculating. The boy had always appeared stupid in her class. He never raised his hand, and when he was called on, he stuttered and cringed and always had the wrong answer, getting everybody to laugh at him. But maybe there was something more to the small boy.

She thought about it. She knew what the teacher had done. He had tried to play a cruel joke on the boy, trying to make him appear stupid to his classmates. To be sure he would succeed, he had chosen a difficult equation that even most high school students could barely do. He didn't expect the boy to know how to solve it.

If the boy was capable of this, what else what he capable of? Maybe she should give him a test, to see his limits. She would have to tell everybody about this new found prodigy.

Harry finally scribbled that last of the problem. He sighed in satisfaction as he looked at his work in pride. Nobody could call him the stupid Freak now. He blinked, and all of the numbers he had written so painstakingly on the board disappeared. It was blank. He blinked again in confusion.

"Well, Potter, solve it," Mr. Jacobs said.

Harry looked at his teacher, wondering what had happened. All his work was gone, but the teacher was sure to have seen him solve the problem already. "Sir," he said quietly. "I already solved it."

The man looked at him in disgust, and Harry, despite himself, felt hurt. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. The look directed at him told Harry that he was nothing more than a pebble in his teacher's shoe. "Fine, Potter. Whatever you say," the man said in a light voice, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. Harry could tell the man was just humoring him. "Solve _this _problem then. If you solved the last one, then surely you can solve this one."

Harry looked back up at the board, looking inside himself for the confidence he had just felt as he had solved the other equation that had disappeared. He couldn't find it. He saw another problem written there. A problem meant for third graders.

He stared at it more a minute, feeling the urge to cry get stronger. He held the tears back. He already heard the laughter behind him. Tears only fueled their amusement. He knew that from experience. He knew he wasn't going to be able to solve the problem though. He didn't recognize it at all.

He held up the chalk, thinking of something, anything, to write, but then his arm dropped. He _felt _the teacher smirk behind him, and he stared at a spot on the ground next to his duct taped trainers fiercely.

"Never mind, Potter. I was hoping for, _something, _but it seems I was foolish to do so. Go back to your seat, please."

Harry shuffled back to his desk at the back of the classroom. No feet were shoved in his way, but the laughter did enough damage. He sat back down, and stared out the window, blinking back tears as the teacher continued with the lesson. He hated his life.

**First chapter finished. It's not very long, but it's something. Just an idea I had as I was writing my other story. I know Harry sounds like a complete wimp, but your going to have to deal with it. For now…**

**Please REVIEW and tell me what you think.**

-**Insomniac**


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